Smoke curls around his head, coming slowly from
his mouth, the cigarette held loosely between his fingers.
The gritty sounds of a metal band screeching from
a bar down the street come through the door as a girl
walks in. Reaching slowly for his drink, the whiskey trembles
in the glass as he raises it to his dry lips. Burning it’s way to his
stomach, it washes away the smoke taste and the aroma of cheap
perfume coming off the girl that just walked by. Fake boobs and
lips, she’s dressed to attract. Not him, but someone.
Standing, pushing back his chair, he drops his cigarette on
the floor, the bartender shakes his head and looks the
other way. Shuffling toward the door the man fumbles in
his pocket for another smoke. Outside the cold wind
finds its way down his collar as he turns away to light
his last cigarette. Once done he ambles slowly for home.